


couldn't let all of those meteors pass

by arrows



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Pre-Canon, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 04:49:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7253077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrows/pseuds/arrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of John’s brothers had tried to teach him the names of the stars once, a few years back, but only a few of them had stuck. He knows enough to know they’re exactly the same as the ones in Geneva, a whole ocean away, but they carry a different air to them, somehow. They feel heavier, back home, like they’ll fall from the sky at any moment.</p><p>Or maybe it’s not the stars at all. Maybe John just feels lighter here. With Francis. It's a possibility.</p>
            </blockquote>





	couldn't let all of those meteors pass

**Author's Note:**

> for anyone who doesn't know — francis kinloch was, historically, probably john laurens' first boyfriend, or at least a really intense crush. they met while they were both studying overseas in geneva, though they both came from south carolina. this fic takes place during their time in geneva. enjoy!

The stars look different in Geneva.

It's a strange thing to notice, John knows; he's been going overseas for vacations since he was a kid, since before the tensions between countries were nearly this high. He remembers summers in London, a house far too big for his already large family; trips to Versailles and Milan, extravagant wealth everywhere.

He'd never once looked up at the sky during those trips. Somehow, between watching his siblings when the few servants they'd brought along weren't able to and exploring new countries by himself (ten year old with too many freckles and too many dreams striking out on his own, what a sight to see. As long as he was home before dinner, it hadn't mattered,) he'd never quite found the time.

John Laurens isn't one to avoid problems. He prefers fighting them until they go away, would take fists over words any day. When fighting's not an option, though, that's when he gets quiet. Pensive, even.

So the stars are different here, and there's another boy laying in the grass beside him, looking far more interested in the constellations than Laurens ever has.

John’s only nineteen, so he’s old enough to know that when he looks over at the boy, his first thought shouldn’t be that he looks gorgeous in the moonlight. He can only imagine what his father would say if he could hear the things running through Laurens’ mind. Henry Laurens would probably make true on his countless threats of disowning John, this schoolboy crush on a classmate being the one thing that takes it too far.

John’s only nineteen, so he’s young enough that he can’t really bring himself to care about any of that.

There must be something to be said for fate, here, that two boys from South Carolina travel all the way to Geneva to study, a coincidence taken to the extreme. John had heard the Kinloch name in passing as a child (wealthy families tend to gossip,) but never specifically of Francis Kinloch. They’d only met a few weeks ago, at Francis’ arrival in France.

Maybe, just maybe, these strange stars have turned in his favor for once. He sends a silent thanks up to the sky before turning to face Francis, cold dew-soaked grass sending a chill up his spine through his shirt.

“Hey, question.” John’s not normally so hesitant, would usually barrel right into the question with no further prompting, but if Francis notices any tentativeness in his tone he doesn’t show it.

“Shoot.”

“D’you know the constellations back home?” One of John’s brothers had tried to teach him the names of the stars once, a few years back, but only a few of them had stuck. He knows enough to know they’re exactly the same as the ones in Geneva, a whole ocean away, but they carry a different air to them, somehow. They feel heavier, back home, like they’ll fall from the sky at any moment.

Or maybe it’s not the stars at all. Maybe John just feels lighter here. With Francis. It's a possibility.

“Yeah, of course I do,” Francis says, shrugging his shoulders from his place next to John. John holds back a laugh; of course he does. Pretty boys with their heads in the clouds should know all about the stars. It makes perfect sense.

“Do you get homesick? Like, I know I've been here for longer and all, so maybe I'm just, I dunno, used to it, but I don’t really miss South Carolina at all. That weird?” Sure, John could do with seeing his siblings more, but he’s already arranging with his father to have them come over once he moves to London to study law.

He thinks the only thing tethering him America is the conflict brewing in the air. The people are rising up, fighting back; it’s only a matter of time. That’s the only reason he intends to go back. John has to be there when it all happens.

“Nah,” and Francis looks over at John, wide eyes and easy smile that make John’s heart skip a beat every time. “What’s there to miss in America? Everything good’s right here.”

He’s looking right into John’s eyes when he says it.

It’s a split-second decision in the end, though John’s been thinking about it for two weeks straight. A smile pops up on John’s face, one of those fleeting ones that needs to be memorized before it’s gone, and he leans in. It doesn’t take much; they’d been lying side by side, and turning to face each other has lessened the distance between them considerably. Only a couple inches apart.

“Uh, John?”

John’s eyes fly open (when had he shut them? He’s not sure,) already sitting up, grass no longer feeling quite so soft beneath his fingers. All the consequences reappear in his mind at the two words — if Francis tells anyone about this, John will be cast out from his family, from society. He won’t be allowed to join the army once the war inevitably starts; won’t be able to channel all the anger that stirs under his skin into something worthwhile. Might be killed, even; it’s rare but he’s heard talk of it happening. He’s just damned both of them, with one reckless action.

He’s moving to stand, collecting his jacket from where he’d lain it on the grass some time ago, when Francis speaks again. “Wait, hey, Jack, hold on — I didn’t mean. Don’t go.” And just like that, John is rooted to the spot again, frozen half-crouched to the ground with his jacket loosely hanging from one hand.

Francis sits up, too, eye level with John. John’s the first to speak, “listen, man, I shouldn’t have — I'm sorry, I won’t, I mean. Don’t tell anyone. Please?” Coming out of his mouth without any input from his brain.

“No, no, it’s fine,” and Francis is smiling, what the hell. “It was unexpected, but not — not bad, y’know?”

John nods repeatedly, because god, he knows. “Can I?” He asks, already leaning forward just a little bit. At Francis’ nod, the usual grin reappears on John’s face, and he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to Francis’ mouth. Nothing incredible, but certainly life changing.

It was never seen as an option, to John, to have someone he liked who liked him back. He’d stuck to climbing trees and exploring rivers as a child rather than looking at any of the girls in their dresses with lace and pearls like his brothers enjoyed; had never dared to voice any feelings. In every other field, Laurens is loudly outspoken and passionate about his opinions; in love, he stays silent.

This, this seems like a sign from fate, from the stars themselves. That he’s capable of love. That he can be loved back.

There’s a giddy smile on his face when he pulls back, eyes opening a moment later to take in Francis. Somehow, he’s still worried perhaps it’s some kind of a joke, but Francis’ matching grin dispels those thoughts in an instant.

“So, about those constellations,” Francis says, lays back down on the grass unceremoniously, arm held out to be used as a pillow for John. It’s a nice gesture, and John takes it, laying close to Francis’ side without a moment’s hesitation. “You, my dear Laurens, are about to get an astronomy lesson.”

It takes an hour for John to be able to name a handful of constellations correctly, but for each correct guess he earns another kiss, so it seems to be well worth the effort.

**Author's Note:**

> title from momento mori by dessa.
> 
> feel free to talk to me on twitter @johniaurens or tumblr @poltergi, or leave a comment here if you've got any compliments/criticism/etc!


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